


The Dead Archaeologist

by thealphagate_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-26
Updated: 2006-03-26
Packaged: 2019-02-02 04:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12719823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealphagate_archivist/pseuds/thealphagate_archivist
Summary: Jack has a complaint.





	The Dead Archaeologist

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

Jack entered the infirmary, pushing the sheet-covered gurney and its burden ahead of him angrily. This was the last time he'd trust that doctor for anything. Ever. He spotted her at the far end of the infirmary, doing some tests on some tissue samples. He cleared his throat and came to a stop a few feet behind her. 

"I'd like to have a word with you..." The doctor did not turn around, or acknowledge his presence. Thoroughly displeased with her behavior toward him, he snapped, "Hello? Madame Napoleon?"

Janet turned around at that. She had a wicked gleam in her eye, and a needle to match. Jack gulped. "What do you mean, 'Napoleon?'"

He tried to wave it off nonchalantly. "I'm sorry, I couldn't tell from above." Then he remembered why he was angry with her, and his eyes narrowed. "I'd like to have a word with you." He gestured to the gurney. Janet suddenly seemed flustered and nervous. "I'm sorry, Colonel, I'm on break. You'll have to take it up with Dr. Warner." She moved to leave. Jack blocked her way with the gurney, its wheels squeaking under the load. A several billion-dollar budget, and the government couldn't bother to fix a few squeaky wheels...

"Never mind that, Doctor. I need to have a word with you about this archaeologist that I requisitioned not 30 minutes ago from this very infirmary." He was hoping to give Janet an out and explain what the hell she thought she was pulling.

Janet just eyed the gurney with what appeared to be a large degree of trepidation. "Oh yes, uh -- Daniel Jackson. What ... What seems to be the matter with him?"

Jack growled in exasperation. "I'll tell you what's wrong with him, Doctor --" He paused to whip the sheet off the gurney, revealing Daniel Jackson, who was currently working very hard to win an Emmy for Best Actor as Corpse #3. "He's DEAD, that's what's wrong with him."

Dr. Frasier took a step back, even more nervous that before, if that were possible. "No! He's ... He's ... sleeping!"

Jack rolled his eyes. Why did people keep forgetting that he was a sight smarter than he appeared, or that he was a Colonel in the United States Air Force? "Look, Doctor, I know a dead Daniel Jackson when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now. " He paused. "...Again."

Frasier hastened to reassure him. "No, no, he's not dead, he's sleeping! Remarkable linguist, Dr. Jackson. Wonderful eyes, too."

Jack eyed her carefully. Daniel's eyes? "His eyes don't enter into it. He's stone dead!"

Janet waved her hands wildly, trying and failing to placate him. "Oh, nonononono! He's just sleeping!" Jack was getting really frustrated. "All right then, if he's sleeping, I'll just wake him up." He leaned over the pale figure of Dr. Jackson, and started to yell directly in his ear, as per norm when he had to wake Daniel up. "Hello, Doctor Daniel Jackson!!! I've got a pot of fresh hot coffee for you if you get u --" 

The gurney shifted with a slight thump and Dr. Frasier eagerly exclaimed, "There! He moved!" Jack looked up at her, eyes wide in surprise at her audacity. "No he didn't, that was you kicking the gurney!"

Janet's eyes widened as well, in feigned innocence. "I never!"

Stunned by her behavior, he nearly roared "Yes you DID!!"

Janet continued to deny it. "I'd never, ever --" About read to blow his lid, Jack resorted to shaking the cart himself. "HELLO, DANIEL!!! Testing! Testing! Rise and shine, camper! This is your 0600 wake-up call!!" He picked up one of Daniel's cold hands and released it, both he and Doctor Frasier watching as it merely flopped back down to rest on his chest. Still feeling the insane need to prove his point by any means, Jack continued by heaving the younger man into a near sitting position, and watching as he collapsed back down, nearly fell off the gurney, and hit his head hard on one of the guard rails. Jack winced despite knowing that Daniel no longer felt it. He turned to Dr. Frasier, hoping he had made his point. "Now that's what I call a dead archaeologist." Dr. Frasier cast about, desperate to think of something. "No, no -- he's whumped."

"WHUMPED?!?!?!?!!" What the hell did that even mean?

The doctor picked up the thread easily. "Yes! You whumped him, just as he was about to wake up! Archaeologists whump easily, Colonel." Jack couldn't believe this. Perhaps Janet was using some of those drugs for more than just tests... "Look now, Doctor -- uh, look..." He gave up. Whatever happened to order in the military? "This is going too far. Dr. Jackson is definitely deceased, and when I requisitioned him not 40 minutes ago, not including commercials, you assured me that his total lack of movement was due to him being 'all tuckered out after an overly intense translation of a Goa'uld artifact!'" He glared at the base physician.

She wilted a little under his gaze. "Well, he's ... ah ... probably ... pining for Abydos?" she guessed weakly.

Jack stared at her, incredulous. "PINING for ABYDOS??!! What the hell kind of talk is that? Look, why did he fall flat on his face the minute I got him to his office?"

Janet tried to act as if it were all perfectly normal. "All archaeologists prefer lying on their faces! Helps their allergies. Remarkable man, sir. Wonderful eyes."

Jack continued to stare at her. What was it with the women on this base and their apparent fascination with Daniel's eyes? This was the third time today... He shook himself off that train of thought. "Look, I took the liberty of examining Dr. Jackson once I got him back on the gurney, and I discovered the only reason he was still on the bed was that he had been STRAPPED IN."

Dr. Frasier was obviously nearing the end of her convoluted list of excuses. "Well ... of COURSE he'd been strapped in. If you don't strap that archaeologist down, he'll bat his eyes at the nearest warm body, beguile his way out of the infirmary and KAWOOSH! He'd be out of here." She seemed strangely satisfied by her reply. Jack supposed this was because ordinarily it would be true. But under these circumstances...

"KAWOOSH? Doctor, this man wouldn't 'kawoosh' if you put him through the nearest Stargate! He's bleedin' demised!"

"No, no! He's pining!" Dr. Frasier maintained. That was it. That was the last straw. Jack exploded. "He's NOT pining! He's PASSED ON! This archaeologist is NO MORE! He has ceased to be! He's expired and gone to meet his maker! He's a stiff! Bereft of life, he rests in peace! If you hadn't strapped him to the gurney, he'd be pushing up the daisies! His metabolic processes are now history! He's drunk from the River Lethe! He's kicked the bucket, he's shuffled off his mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible! THIS is an EX-ARCHAEOLOGIST!!!!!"

There was a slight pause while Jack tried to catch his breath. "Well," Dr. Frasier said slowly. "I'd better replace him then, hadn't I?" Oh, this Jack really wanted to see. He nodded, glaring. The doctor stepped off to the side of the office into another cubicle. She returned shortly, empty-handed, a contrite look upon her face. "Sorry, sir, I've just had a look in the supply room and we'll all out of Dr. Jacksons. That was the last of what Harlan gave us." She couldn't be serious, could she? Maybe she'd just cracked under the strain. Jack sighed. Well, why the hell not just play along and see what happens? "OK, OK. I see. I get the picture." She looked at him hesitantly. "I've got a Rothman."

OK, never mind if she was perhaps insane. What the hell kind of trade was that? Letting his voice get overly polite, he asked, "Tell me, is it ever right?" Frasier let her gaze slide away. "Nnnnooo..." "WELL HE'D HARDLY BE A USEFUL REPLACEMENT, THEN, WOULD HE?!?!" Jack yelled, ignoring the fact that half the time he didn't listen to Daniel even if he WAS right.

Dr. Frasier looked slightly hurt. "Look, maybe if you go to the Tok'ra, they can fix him for you." Jack nearly smacked himself. Why HAD he been wasting all his time with this delusional woman? "The Tok'ra, huh? Why the hell not..." Jack emerged from the Stargate onto Vorash, shivering slightly, but still pushing Daniel on the gurney. Only he hadn't quite been able to lever Daniel back onto the bed very well, so now his legs and head were hanging off. The sheet was only casually draped over him, buffeted about by the Stargate. He looked about him as he eased himself and the gurney to the entrance to the Tok'ra hideout. 

Jacob approached him. Finally, a man with some sense. Jack then frowned as he noticed the sign Jacob carried, which said in bright red letters 'NOT the Tok'ra's secret hideout.'

"This IS Vorash, right?" Jack pleaded, wondering who'd had it in for him today.

Jacob looked up, startled. "Um ... no ..." He pointed at the sign. This man had made general? "See? It's ... It's Cimmeria!" He nodded eagerly, trying to convince Jack.

Jack frowned. He'd never been very good with dialing the SGC's Stargate. Maybe he'd popped into an alternate reality or something... "And Carter said these things were reliable..." He headed back to the gate, taking the gurney with him. As he returned through the wormhole to the SGC, he looked up at Carter in the gate room. "Carter..."

She didn't look up from what she was doing, but her posture tensed and she called down through the intercom. "I don't have to be doing this, sir." Jack was beyond puzzled. Doing what? "Excuse me?" Carter carried on. "I mean, I'm a fully qualified astrophysicist, sir. I could get any job I wanted on the entire planet! I'm only doing this because I've got an unlimited budget, you know."

Jack was beyond lost. "I'm sorry, this is relevant HOW? Our archaeologist is --" He stopped, feeling rather ridiculous. "You know what, never mind. What's up with the Stargate? I told you to send me to Vorash and I ended up ... somewhere decidedly less sane."

Carter finally looked up. "Sir, I'm sure that was Vorash."

Jack eyed her warily. "You're sure?"

Carter nodded eagerly. "I'm sure of it. Number 3 on our speed dial, right after Janet's pager." Jack glowered in frustration. "Then your father was lying!" Why he felt like he was stating a revelation was beyond him.

Carter just shrugged. "You know how the Tok'ra are, sir."

Jack just nodded. They'd all probably been underground too long. "Send me back." Carter dialed Vorash up, and Jack went through the gate once more. He failed to notice, however, something Carter had been wondering about -- the gurney he was towing was now empty. Back on Vorash -- he was sure it was Vorash -- Jack confronted Jacob. He had a pause, however, when he saw the sign Jacob was wearing. On one side it said 'Not Jacob,' and on the other side it said 'Not Selmak.' He shook his head. No wonder the Tok'ra couldn't keep their bases' locations a secret. "I've been told that this is indeed Vorash." He took down the word 'NOT' from the sign he'd seen on his last visit -- the word had only been taped on. 

Jacob didn't look at him. He looked at the piece of paper on the ground, then at the newly corrected sign. "Oh. So it is."

"You told me it was CIMMERIA!!! Although I don't know why the hell I believed THAT!!" "It was a zebra."

Jack halted his bellow. He eyed Jacob warily. If this weirdness was hereditary... "A zebra??!" Jacob hastened to correct himself. "Er, I mean, a za'tarc."

Jack resumed bellowing. "A ZA'TARC?!?! This is INSANE!!! You expect me to BELIEVE that?" He started to wave his arms wildly. "I think a za'tarc would've done a little more than just try and trick me into believing this was Cimmeria! Don't you think a za'tarc would at least try and do something to Danie --" He stopped mid-gesture. The gurney was empty. The sheet trailed off the edge forlornly, looking like it had lost its purpose without an archaeologist to drape itself over. "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO DANIEL?!?!?!?!?!!"

Daniel emerged from around a corner in the tunnel system. "I'm right here Jack." Jack gaped. Daniel didn't seem to notice. "What am I doing here, anyway? I was trying to get a quick nap in before going back to investigating those artifacts from P3X-769." He rubbed his head, which was developing a slight bump. "Let me tell you, these caves don't make for good beds."

Jack continued to stare at him. "You --" he spluttered. "You really WERE sleeping?!" Daniel gave him a puzzled look and frowned at him. "Of course. Why? Should I have sent you a memo?" Jack gave up. This was officially the most screwed-up day of his life. Worse than the time he traded bodies with half his team. He snagged Jacob's zat gun out of its holster and proceeded to zat Daniel. Only once, although the niggling little voice in his head nearly managed to convince him a second shot would do Dr. Jackson a world of good. He glared at Jacob as he hauled Daniel onto the gurney. "You saw nothing." He left for the Stargate, muttering, "You want something done right around here..."

Jacob looked after him, shaking his head.

"Riiiight." He sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have joined the Tok'ra."


End file.
